


The Grip On Your Stick

by caleprwrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Fluff and Crack, M/M, Pan's Twitterpals Crack Exchange, Stick Fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-26 23:25:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18292307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caleprwrite/pseuds/caleprwrite
Summary: From the prompt: Loki and Dr. Strange are married and very much in love, but also they sometimes they beat each other with sticks for fun. Emphasis on the consensual stick-fighting.





	The Grip On Your Stick

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the_genderman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_genderman/gifts).



> A gift to [@JCtheBird](https://twitter.com/JCtheBird) for his #PansTwitterpalsCrackExchange prompt. Thank you to [@panacea_knits](https://twitter.com/panacea_knits) for putting this together, it was so fun and I'm looking forward to next year if you continue the tradition!
> 
>  

“Ready Darling?” Loki asks. His voice is as smooth as velvet but there’s a devious little glint in his eyes. “Now, mind the grip on your stick.”

Stephen simply smirks at his husband, one brow arching in a cocky gesture. Loki’s horrible puns are a gift. He’d been practicing his craft, but not the one anyone would expect. Loki and Stephen were perfectly, evenly matched, each with their own individual interpretation on the art of magic, but still incredibly in sync with the other. It’s what had drawn them to each other so strongly.

The craft in question Stephen had been practicing, though, was stick fighting. As in martial arts, ancient, beautiful and completely private, at least that’s what Loki thought. As far as he knew, it was something Stephen had learned from him and only him; call it playing dirty, but Stephen didn’t waste his time in Nepal _not_ observing others around him.

He knew where to go and who to speak to, and he had no problem using his magic to transport himself back for lessons while Loki was away dealing with Thor on some extended family this-or-that. While Loki and Thor were busy, Stephen went back to the monastery and learned a theory of combat from the warrior monks, a style that was polar opposite from everything Loki had taught him.

“The more appropriate question here is are you ready?” Stephen grins, then advances on the mat, striking out quickly.

Loki blocks, shooting a smirk back at Stephen as Stephen adjusts his grip on the staff in his hands. “I’d say you’ve familiarized yourself with your weapon very well, my love.”

Stephen snorts a laugh. A comment such as that shouldn’t be enough to turn him into a fourteen year old boy, but it does.

It happens that fast. They’re jabbing, swinging the staffs against each other, the only sounds in the room are the controlled breathing of the two men and the sharp crack of heavy red oak. The controlled breathing gives way to grunts, and the sounds morph into breathy chuckles and playful shouts as Loki does his best to hold back, and Stephen keeps his usual mistake to mastery ratio consistent.

Loki advances on Stephen, and Stephen blocks left, strikes overhead and then blocks high against Loki’s flurry of attack. Loki advances forward into Stephen’s space with another barrage of moves, and then it’s crack, crack, crack!

Stephen stumbles back, panting and exaggerating being out of breath just enough to lull Loki into a false sense of superiority. It’s not difficult; he’s got one of the biggest egos Stephen’s ever gone up against, which is really saying something. And for all Loki knows, every piece of Stephen’s training has come from him personally, so he should know precisely what to expect.

Stephen lowers his guard for a moment and Loki breaks, knowing his husband tires easier than himself. He’s not entirely human, not really, but not a god, either. Grabbing his water bottle he offers it to Stephen to drink first. He’s a true gentleman like that, but only with his beloved.

“Thank you, Sweetheart” Stephen pants out after a few swallows, a fond grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

Loki takes the bottle Stephen’s returned to him but instead of drinking straight away, he leans in and presses a chaste kiss against Stephen’s lips. He simply can’t help it, not when they’re that close. “Do you wish to continue?”

It’s exactly what Stephen’s been waiting for. He didn’t marry the God of Mischief because he wanted to be with someone who was always forthcoming. That would be boring, and it wasn’t necessarily in what Loki asked, as much as how he asked it. There was nothing sneaky about it, not to Stephen. He knew and loved the teasing quips. Knew them like the back of his hand, and loved losing himself in  every sensation that often followed each little offer of affection.

“Don’t think you’re going to distract me with being cute this time, Loki. I’m not done with you yet.”

“You can’t blame me for trying, not with the vision before me,” Loki replies, cheesy as ever while Stephen picks his staff back up.

“Less flirting, love. More fighting.”

“As you wish, Darling.”

They’re back at it, strike after strike and grunt by grunt they match each other, and the surprise in Loki’s eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. He blocks left, then right before striking out with a series of jabs and overhead moves.

Stephen lets him get a few more licks in before making his move. It’s completely unexpected, his staff moving lightning fast with a downward swipe. Loki hits the mat with a loud thud and a completely adorable squawking _“oof”_ sound, eyes wide, blinking up at Stephen above him from the flat of his back.

“How did-” he begins but is speechless by the way Stephen stands over him imposingly, a foot to the side of each of Loki's hips. The thing that breaks the dominance of his posture is the fact that he’s smiling wide, proud, skin flushed and breath panting.

The flush of color high on Stephen's cheeks and gentle sheen of sweat on his brow hits Loki right in the heart, and there’s nothing more in that moment he wants more than to roll Stephen underneath him and kiss him stupid, so he does, body turning lightning fast. The two of them tumbling together, Loki moving until Stephen is underneath him, panting out laughter, breath softly fanning against Loki’s lips. Loki groans at their proximity and how badly he’d prefer they were somewhere else. Somewhere with much less clothing required. He considers abandoning propriety for a moment, but decides against it.

“Someone’s been naughty,” Loki teases through a sly grin and Stephen huffs a soft chuckle, wrapping his arms around Loki’s shoulders.

“I went back to the monastery, worked a little with the warrior monks.”

“A little?”

Stephen shrugs. “What can I say? I’m a quick study.”

Stephen reaches behind Loki’s head, fingers easily finding the hair tie keeping his raven locks out of his face. He pulls and the long strands fall forward, curtaining them off from the rest of the world. When he reaches up he meets Loki’s soft lips in a slow, loving kiss.

After being apart… it’s what they really needed.

 


End file.
